


Let Me Soar

by gremlins-came-and-got-me (Scared_Beings_in_the_Dark)



Series: If I'm Falling [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek's Broken, F/M, Kate was Evil, Minor Panic Attack(s), PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 18:45:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7450072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scared_Beings_in_the_Dark/pseuds/gremlins-came-and-got-me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek’s taking a break from Beacon Hills and Sheriff Stilinski. He’s found a friend, almost a mentor of sorts, and someone who maybe won’t break him, however unintentionally. Maybe this time, it’ll be perfect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Soar

**Author's Note:**

> Read the tags, heed any warnings.
> 
> Spoilers through Season 4.
> 
> Unbetaed, all mistakes are my own.
> 
> Apologies for any medical mistakes.

~ * ~

Derek’s taking a break from Beacon Hills and Sheriff Stilinski. He’s found a friend, almost a mentor of sorts, and someone who maybe won’t break him, however unintentionally. Maybe this time, it’ll be perfect.

Braeden drives most of the time, and most of the time Derek pays for gas and food and lodgings. He doesn’t mind. They’re on a quest Braeden can’t be paid for, and Derek has no one else to spend his money on.

It’s a nice arrangement. One they keep for almost seven months.

Sure, they’re still in a relationship. At least, Derek thinks they are. They haven’t exactly had successful sex since the second Mexico. But, that’s Derek’s fault. And Braeden seems willing enough to let him tag along on her mission.

Motels and hotels blur together, and really, the only way Derek can tell them apart is by the levels of dust that accumulate in each room.

Braeden laughs at him the first time she catches him cleaning things, dusting around the knickknacks and sweeping the floors. The next dozen times, her face goes pinched and she scribbles something in a little black notebook she never lets him read.

They fall into a routine where Derek cleans and readies the room while Braeden scouts the local watering holes for information. When he’s done his little cleaning ritual, he heads to the homiest restaurant still open and gets two specials to-go.

He leaves a lamp on whenever Braeden stays out later than he does. It doesn’t bother him that she doesn’t leave a light on for him. He can see in the dark.

It’s maybe a projection on his part, but she seems annoyed when she returns to the room to find him curled in the corner, handgun balanced on his knee, waiting until she’s back before he lets himself drift off.

She tries explaining it one day when they clean guns and count ammunition.

“You’re jumpy,” she says, quietly, studying him with a pensive (disappointed) stare.

“Yes,” he agrees, observing her back until she drops her gaze to the inner workings of her shotgun. “Do you want me to tell you why?”

He doesn’t really, but he remembers Chris and the Sheriff making him talk (and how that last one had gone). Braeden deserves more of an explanation than either of them.

She doesn’t answer, but her mouth tightens into a sharp line. She slaps the gun back together a bit more forcefully than necessary. “No,” she finally decides. “I just want to go to bed. We haven’t been resting as well as we should.”

And it’s his fault, he knows. He keeps waking up drenched in sweat, shouts and cries of pain (fear) dying on his lips. They manage a half an hour at a time, and less if Braeden turns off the lights. Which she always does. (He’s not mad. He’s _not_.)

“Did you want anything other than sleep?” He feels his face flame, but she ignores him, shedding her jacket and top as she climbs onto the bed. She shimmies out of her jeans, tossing them so they land next to where he’s still crouched by the end table.

“Just come to bed,” she says, and he nods, a bit frantically.

She’s exasperated. He hopes it’s because they’ve lost the trail and have to spend some time regrouping.

He thinks it’s because of him.

He keeps his shirt and pants on, crawling under the covers she holds up for him, letting her drape an arm over his chest and tug him closer.

“Derek, I don’t want this to break you,” she whispers, tucking her face against his neck. He swallows hard.

“It won’t,” he tries to assure her, the words sticking in his throat. “I…” He wants to promise, wants to roll over and let her kiss him, but as soon as the thought flares in his mind, he starts gasping.

“Derek?” she mumbles questioningly. She props herself up on one elbow, staring down at him, confusion (anger) and fear (pity) clouding her eyes.

“’m okay,” he manages to choke out. She laughs harshly, her other hand coming to rest on his face. He sees it coming and still flinches at the movement.

Her face softens, and she sits up, pulling him up with her. “You’re not okay. You are the furthest thing from okay.” She rubs at his face, wiping at tears he isn’t aware he’s crying. “Just, tell me if it’s something I can fix, please?”

He nods and she sighs. Then, quietly, he says, “I think I want to go home.”

“Home,” she repeats a little flatly. “Where is home?”

He thinks about that silently. Then he sighs. “Home is Beacon Hills. It’s where my family is, where I grew up. No matter how it hurts me, it’s still home.”

“We’ll start back tomorrow,” she says (promises). “I need some rest tonight.” He takes that as a cue to climb out of the bed and curl on the couch.

She doesn’t shut the lamp off at all.

Neither of them go to sleep at all either.

Braeden keeps her promise, and they start driving back to Beacon Hills, to his home, the next morning.

~ Fin ~

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't hesitate to let me know if something bothers you or needs more tags.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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